Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Charlotte couldn't get her sister's wink out of her head. Just thinking about it brought a blush to her cheeks. She didn't know what was going through Louise's head. Well, she did know, but she couldn't think about it without her heart feeling as though it wanted to jump out of her chest.

A week had passed since Charlotte and William made amends, and everything was as it had been before the mess with Henry. It was almost as though it never happened, but it remained at the back of her mind like an ugly reminder of what to avoid in the future. Charlotte didn't want the same thing to happen again.

"Are you enjoying the opera?" William whispered.

Charlotte shivered slightly when his warm breath fanned against her cheek. She smiled and nodded.

"It's lovely," she replied.

William returned her smile. "I'm glad."

The soft glow of the lantern behind them revealed a fly had entered their box. Although it was rather dark, her eyes had grown accustomed to the lack of bright light, and she could track the insect's movements.

It flew past William's head to land on his arm. She swatted at it, but William seemed to think she wanted to hold hands because he caught her fingers and drew them closer. Before she knew it, her whole hand was in his. She didn't bother to say anything because she rather liked holding hands with him.

Grinning, she turned back to the opera and concentrated on the music. It was all in Italian, one of the languages she could speak fluently. She also spoke, read, and wrote Latin because of the many manuscripts she had to translate. Most were church texts from monasteries tucked away in old cities on the continent.

Some of the texts were religious writings, while others were recipes and the daily life of the monks. Many thought monks were merely serious men who prayed all day and did nothing else, but they were very active men who led full lives.

"What are you thinking about?" William asked.

She blinked, slowly coming out of her thoughts. "I was thinking about monks."

William leaned closer until she could see all the features on his face. Even his scar was visible. He was close enough for her to lean forward a little and touch her nose with his.

"How did you arrive at such thoughts?" he said.

"The opera is in Italian," she pointed out. "My mind traveled from that point."

William chuckled softly. "My wife's imagination starts at point A and somehow gets to B, but it's not a linear pattern, but squiggles of chaotic thoughts. I would love a window into your mind."

"You can just ask me to explain and describe everything," she said. "It is a perk of having me as your wife."

"And what a wonderful perk it is," he said with a wink.

Charlotte's breath hitched. This was her second wink of the night, but this one was more potent. Louise had winked because she was being mischievous, but William's wink...well, it seemed more suggestive.

William turned away, but Charlotte couldn't stop looking at him. Her husband was truly handsome and a wonderful man, and he was doing everything possible to make her happy. Their quarrel had lit a fire under his feet, and now it seemed nothing was too small or big for him. He had increased her pin money from ten pounds to fifteen, insisted she order more dresses from the best seamstress in London, had a jeweler come to their home for unique pieces to add to her collection, and he was being more adventurous with food.

William wanted to try everything she liked to eat, so she spoke to the housekeeper and tweaked their meals for the following week. Charlotte gave up trying to stop him from doing too much because he said nothing would ever be enough. He seemed to mean it.

William finally realized she was looking at him because he turned to her. "Is there something on my face?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No. It's perfect."

"Perfect?"

She nodded. Her face was likely beet red, but they had promised they would always be truthful with each other, even if it was embarrassing.

"Well, I think you're the perfect one." He tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. "Perfect and mine. I'm a fortunate man."

He had said mine . She loved that. Charlotte wanted to hear it again. "Yours?"

"Yes, you're mine," he said possessively.

No longer were they concerned about the opera or that others could look up and see them in the box. All that mattered was that they were together at that moment. All the breath left her body when William leaned even closer until only a tiny space remained between them. He was going to kiss her. She just knew it.

"Charlotte?" he whispered.

"Yes?"

Her voice was breathless and unlike her own. She didn't recognize it.

"Can I kiss you?"

Every thought left her mind except one. She wanted this and had waited for him to make the first move for weeks.

"Yes," she replied and closed her eyes.

It was mere seconds before she felt his warm lips press against hers. A flood of feelings rushed over her—excitement, joy, disbelief, and uncertainty. Charlotte didn't know how to respond, so she just trusted William would guide her.

For now, she wanted to soak into this wonderful and intense feeling that made her entire body tingle like every fiber of her being was happily drunk and dancing in the warm rain.

William eventually pulled away, but Charlotte didn't open her eyes just yet. They fluttered but didn't lift. Between her heart racing and struggling to catch her breath, she needed a moment for her head to stop spinning and the use of her limbs to return. She could quite gladly melt into her seat and become a giant puddle of joy.

"Charlotte."

William's voice seemed deep and a little hoarse. He had not come away from their kiss unaffected. Charlotte liked knowing that.

She opened her eyes and found she could barely stand the intensity in his gaze. He looked like he could gobble her up, but she didn't mind. Gobble away.

"Hmm?"

"I—"

He didn't get any further because someone knocked outside their box. They both turned toward the entrance and waited for the caller to enter. A servant from their house appeared seconds later, surprising them.

"Your Graces," he said, bowing before them. "I have brought an urgent message from Her Grace's home."

Charlotte straightened. "My home?" she said, taking the letter from him.

Alarmed by the suddenness, she opened the letter and read it. Her heart dropped, and her face fell with the news of her mother's illness. William placed a comforting hand on her thigh.

"What is it?" he asked. "What happened? Are your parents well?"

She shook her head. "My mother is ill, and she wants me to come home. What could have happened to her? It must be serious for them to ask for me."

Gregory surprised them when he appeared behind the servant. He had not said anything about coming to the theater. He took one look at their faces and drew nearer.

"What happened?" he asked. "Why does the air seem tense? Do not tell me you're quarreling again?"

"It's nothing like that," William told him. "Charlotte's mother is ill and wants her home. I think we should go home," he added, turning to Charlotte. "We should tell your sister."

Charlotte nodded. "I think so, too."

"I'll come with you," Gregory said rather eagerly.

Charlotte briefly glanced at him, sensing he had ulterior motives that had to do with her sister. The two seemed to be growing closer, although Louise had yet to comment. Charlotte couldn't worry about that for now, not when her mother was ill. There would be time to address romance another time.